James Bond, Eat Your Heart Out
by Sazuka57
Summary: AKA Real Spies Don't Walk Away From Explosions, But From Swooning Women and Jealous Men. (Secret Agent Night Light AU)


**James Bond, Eat Your Heart Out** , Aka Real Spies Don't Walk Away From Explosions, But From Swooning Women and Jealous Men

Grillby was nothing if not _great_ at his two jobs, if he said so himself. His first job was that of a bartender. At that job, he was someone who said very little and offered an ear to his patrons.

His second one was espionage. And did he ever _love_ that job.

He looked up when the door of the bar swung open, and mentally smiled as his current target walked in. Lance Amano was his name. He was a tall, blonde haired human with round glasses and a lot of resentment to his job. He worked for a computer security firm named Geth Orton Digital Security, which was contracted to Leif and Flower Co. His profile mentioned that he didn't have many friends, which made him perfect, because it meant that he would be in need of a friendly ear, and this was something Grillby was very capable of providing in order to earn his trust.

Trust and patience were what was needed to gather information on the field. As a bartender, Grillby was in a prime position to earn the trust of strangers, and he had plenty of patience to do so.

He waved at Lance and poured his first glass of scotch on the rocks, with more ice in it than usual because that was how he liked it. He gently set the drink in front of him as he sat down.

"On the house," he told Lance with a warm tone.

"Thank you," he looked down at the cup and smiled, "Oh Grillby, what would I do without you?"

He made a small, appreciative noise and moved on to other patrons, keeping an eye on Lance as he slowly downed the glass. He had the second glass prepared as soon as he finished the first one, and handed it to him promptly. Lance gave him a tired smile and went back to staring at the table.

Lance Amano was a more difficult nut to crack than most. The man loved to talk, yes, but never about anything specific. He talked a lot about how he did his job, but never about his company's clients, or his coworkers, or any other person, in that matter. If it wasn't for the profile, Grillby wouldn't have even known that the man was married with three kids.

Still, Grillby learned a lot about the company policies, which would be of help after he got what he wanted from Lance. Specifically, the scheduled diagnostics for Leif and Flower Co.

And Lance's work shirt, but at least that would be easy, as Lance usually came over directly from work.

He handed Lance the third glass the second he finished the second one and finally asked, "How was your day?"

"Pretty sure I got the worst news of the week," Lance answered. Grillby's kindness towards him had made him more talkative about certain aspects of his work, and Grillby took full advantage of that.

Lance was, after all, his "favorite" customer.

"Oh?" He prompted. Another thing about Lance was that he liked to believe that he could hold his liquor, but it in reality, he was the exact opposite. Still, Grillby wasn't about to enlighten him any time soon.

"Yeah, they're asking me to go up to Leif and Flower next week. The guy who used to do those runs quit last week."

Not quit; fired. Grillby's tech expert made sure of that, and made sure that Lance got the Leif and Flower Co. diagnostics assignment.

"Why is that so terrible?" Grillby asked.

"Because they've got the worst IT department in the history of IT departments. They're all so amateurish. I don't think a single one of them has more than introduction level experience? _Ugh_." He downed the rest of the shot and Grillby promptly replaced it. "I am so glad I'm not going to be dealing with them."

"No?" Good, Grillby's goal wasn't the IT department anyways, though he would have to figure out a way to get a username and password of one of the people who worked there.

"Nope. I have to go run diagnostics on the higher up offices, but man, I have to deal with the front desk. I hate dealing with their front desk. They have all of these inane—" Grillby cut him off by raising his hand with his palm outwards, signaling him to stop talking.

"What?" Lance asked, annoyed.

"I'm quite sure that speaking of these matters is against your company's policy."

"Yeah, but! But you're _Grillby_. I mean, you're not going to tell anyone, are you?"

"Of course not. I simply wished to remind you."

"Thanks, but. You're Grillby. I—I trust you. I think?" Grillby slid another glass towards him. Lance smiled, pleased, "yeah, definitely trust you."

"Then by all means, please continue." Grillby was smiling in self-satisfaction as he played the human like a harp. Thankfully, Lance didn't know him well enough or cared to try to learn his facial expressions, so he was none the wiser.

"Right so, they have the craziest stack of paperwork they have you fill out? And the sticker badge thing. Takes forever to print one because the printer they have always dies. Always. I haven't heard a single person who went over there say that the printer doesn't die. It takes ages to get it working when it breaks down. And they always have someone new there. That company has the highest turnover ever, I think. They're just. Not fun."

He was fully ranting now about his past trip to the company last month. He listened to see if he would divulge any new information, but he didn't. Still, he got more than he needed. All that was left was to wait for next week.

-/-/-/-

Exactly six days later, Lance came in with a foul mood and Grillby knew that it was time. He served Lance as warmly as usual and confirmed that indeed, Lance was going to Leif and Flower Co. tomorrow. His appointment with them was at 11:30 am.

The game was on.

He pretended to listen to Lance as he ranted angrily about some bad customer or another, keeping careful count of Lance's shots. The human usually drank six before leaving, and Grillby had to make sure he didn't execute his plan until he fifth shot.

Lance was in an extremely foul mood that night, thankfully, and went through the first four shots pretty quickly. Grillby deftly prepared the fifth cup, adding the powered sleeping agent to the drink so quickly and fluidly that even if anyone was paying attention to him, they wouldn't have caught it without a frame by frame shot. He served the drink as naturally as usual, and Lance instantly downed it.

"Ugh," the human made a face, "that one tasted bad."

"Apologies. The bottom of the bottle does taste unusual at times," Grillby explained, pouring Lance the last glass he ever would drink at his bar. Lance drank it and shook his head, glaring at the table as he lapsed into furious silence.

It took a half hour, but Lanced finally slumped forward in the middle of a spiel about a rude customer, putting his hands underneath his head as the sedative took effect. A few more minutes and he was fast asleep. Grillby smiled widely to himself. Everything was going perfectly.

He let Lance sleep away at his stool until closing, and then kept him there as he cleaned and fixed up the place. He took care of all of his chores and counted inventory, not fearing to make any noise as he did so. The sedative was a strong one, after all.

Once he finished everything, he carried Lance over his shoulder and out the back door. The human was heavier than he looked, but not as heavy as to hinder him. He walked down a few blocks, staying in the alleyways as much as possible. There was virtually no one around this late at night, which Grillby knew from the number of times he had done this before.

Once he was satisfied with the distance, he dropped Lance against a wall and got to work. His first order of business was the company shirt. He undressed the human quickly, frowning as he realized he would have to wash the shirt before using it, as it reeked of alcohol. He grabbed the company badges and threw away the topmost one, which had Lance's picture on it. The rest had Geth Orton's logo clearly printed on them, which would suffice for what he had planned.

Finally, he fished out the wallet and looked through it. He wanted this to look as though Lance was robbed while he was passed out, so he grabbed the cash and pocketed it, then started throwing the credit cards careless behind him. He found Lance's social security card and smirked mischievously before burning it. That would distract Lance away from the bar for a while.

Once he was done, he dropped the wallet in front of him and started to walk away. He took a few steps before turning back and swiping Lance's shoes and socks. He would throw them in a dumpster in the next alleyway, and only grabbed them to make the robbery look a lot more realistic.

He smiled happily as he walked home, knowing that Lance would be out cold at least until tomorrow afternoon. Tonight had been a good night, and tomorrow was going to be even better.

-/-/-

Grillby walked through the doors of Leif and Flower Co. at 11:20am. He was wearing the Geth Orton Digital Security employee shirt and black dress pants, both of which were immaculately clean and ironed. He wore the employee badge on his belt, and had a clean, black messenger bag that carried all of the necessities he would need for this trip. He had turned himself blue for the job and had his flame low on his head as to appear as nonthreatening as possible.

He usually turned blue for the jobs because it was enjoyable. Burning blue made his eyes turn a bluish white, which really stood out against his flames. Grillby knew that most people focused on the eyes when they were having a conversation, and his blue flame made it easier for them to see his eyes, which were usually a golden color lost among his orange and red flames.

He knew how to convey all kinds of emotions with his eyes. He could smile, frown, charm, and intimidate his way through any conversation with his eyes alone.

He walked with a friendly and confident gait towards the front desk, which was manned by a petite human woman with a broad, artificial smile. Her nametag stated that her name was Amy, and Grillby could tell from afar that the woman was very nervous. If Lance was correct, this meant that the woman had started working here recently.

He took note of the full pencil cup that was haphazardly placed on the counter above her workplace. It might useful later.

"Hi, welcome to Leif and Flower! How may I help you?" She greeted pleasantly.

"Good morning," he replied warmly with a smile in his voice, "I'm here for the diagnostics on the third floor?"

"R-right. May I have your name, please?"

"Lance Amano. The appointment is for 11:30, but I fear I've made good time this morning."

She smiled at him before typing away at the computer for a few minutes.

"Here we are," she said to herself, "Right, Mr.…Amano? You'll need to fill out some paperwork and I need to print out a pass for you."

"Of course, whatever you need," he tilted his head to the side slightly and smiled with his eyes. This set the woman a little at ease. She smiled at him and went through a drawer and pulled out a few papers. She clipped the papers to a clipboard and handed it to him to read and sign.

"I'll make your badge as you go through the papers," she offered. He made eye contact with her and smiled with his eyes at her, then went back to the papers. He'd read their like a hundred times before, but he skimmed them just in case there were any differences. There was a lot to fill up, but he was more attentive to what she was doing rather than the paperwork. He had plenty of time to do it, but he needed to time his next step.

As soon as she set his ID to print, he looked up from the paperwork, pointed at the pencil cup, and politely asked, "May I borrow a pen, please?"

"Oh! Um, yes, go right ahead." She was smiling nervously. He squinted in a smile, and confidently reached out for a pen, only to knock the whole thing over.

The pencil cup clattered over her side of the counter, and the pens cascaded down her workplace. He watched it happen with wide eyes, then gave her a very apologetic look.

"I am sincerely sorry," he said with a sincere and very apologetic tone.

"No, it's okay," she replied automatically, "I'll pick them right up."

She started to pick up the pencils and pens that had scattered across her desk. He watched her for a few seconds before he spoke again.

"Um, if I may still borrow a pen, please?" He filled his voice with uncertainty and hesitancy. Her head shot up and her face had an expression of surprise, which he expected. He had acted cool and confident the whole time, and the hesitancy showed that he wasn't untouchable. This would make her a little more vulnerable towards him, which would be pretty useful.

He could see the cogs turning in her brain as she handed him the pen in her hand without breaking eye contact. He gave her a small smile with his eyes as he accepted the pen, thanking her softly. He then took a step back and she went back to picking up the pens.

He filled out the paperwork while keeping an ear out for her shuffling. As soon as she ducked under the desk to grab the rest of the pens, he reached out with his hands over the counter and grabbed a printer wire between his thumb and index finger. He willed the fire in those fingers to burn hotter, and he quickly burned through the wire. He just as quickly absorbed the heat from the wire back into himself and then let go, leaving behind a cold, burned wire and a seemingly broken down printer.

She lifted her head up from underneath the desk a few moments later with all of the scattered pens in her hands. By that time, he had gone back to filling out the paperwork required, tapping the pen to his unseen lips. She stared at him for a few seconds before putting the pens back in the pencil cup and placing it near her keyboard. She then looked at the printer and found that the paper she was printing on was stuck halfway through. She sighed exasperatedly and tugged the paper free, shoulders drooping in relief when she found that the tag was fully printed, and it had gotten stuck on the second copy of the badge. She picked up the phone and called the IT department for assistance. Once she was done, she sat down and pretended to work on her computer, sneaking glances towards Grillby every few moments.

On her third glance, Grillby looked up from the mostly finished paperwork and smiled warmly.

"Yes?" He asked in a friendly tone.

"Oh, um, it's nothing…"

"Please. If you have something to say, then by all means."

"It's just that…" she looked hesitant, "I—I wasn't expecting…" She looked away in embarrassment.

"Is it the name? Or the monster?" He asked, letting humor color his tone.

"The name, mostly," She answered meekly, barely meeting his eyes.

"Us monsters need to make a living live everyone else," he said conversationally, "Having a human name makes it easier to find work."

"Oh," she sounded almost disappointed by the answer, "That makes sense."

She was quiet for a few moments as she watched him filled out more of the papers.

"Can I…would it be okay to ask what your…real name is?" She asked, wincing at her own words. Grillby noticed that she seemed to think she was being insensitive. He gave her a reassuring smile with his eyes.

"Night Light," he answered. She instantly burst into giggles, stopping halfway through to stare in horror at him.

"I'm, I'm sorry! That was really inappropriate!"

"It's quite alright." He shook his head slowly in amusement, "I love my parents dearly, but their naming choices have always been somewhat… abysmal."

She giggled freely this time, smiling widely at him. He smiled back at her and then returned to his paperwork. Lance hadn't been kidding—there was much too much of it. He had Lance's file memorized, though, so it wasn't too much trouble; just too long.

By the time he reached the end of the page before last, an IT employee came to see the printer. Amy had greeted them, but they shrugged her greeting off as he asked what was wrong. She didn't get two words out before he started ignoring her and booted up the laptop he brought with him. She looked dejected, and Grillby frowned. He needed her flustered and too out of it to be aware of her surroundings. At this rate, she would go back to being nervous and will more likely keep a closer eye on him.

He knew from his first glance at the papers that the last page only needed him to sign and date at the bottom of the page. So he kept his eyes on her until she looked up and caught his gaze. He then brought his dominant hand to his face, fingers curled around the pen. He kept his gaze on her as he slowly, deliberately opened his mouth a tiny bit and licked the tip of his thumb. His tongue was the same color as his eyes, so it was very obvious as what he was doing.

He heard her breath catch, and the tips of her ears and neck turned red. He had her completely flustered.

Grillby kept his gaze on her as he slowly brought his hand down and turned the page. He quickly and confidently signed and dated the last page then handed the clipboard back with a smile. She finally tore her gaze away from him and looked at the clipboard momentarily before remembering where she was. She took it from him and quickly looked away, turning redder as she attempted to file away the papers, and almost knocked the pencil cup over again.

While she was distracted, Grillby tilted backwards to look over the IT employee's shoulder. The laptop he was using was an old, slow, bulky one, and he had barely managed to get to the log in screen. Grillby watched the man's fingers as he entered his ID and password, and mentally filed them away for later use. He looked at the man's employee badge and noted that it was only cleared for the lowest access.

Amy finally looked up and handed Grillby his sticker ID badge, then instructed him on how to get to the elevators and third floor. She was stammering the whole time, but Grillby gave her a patient stare as she spoke and then bade her a warm goodbye as he walked away.

He walked to the elevators and put on the badge as he waited for the elevator doors to open. Punching in the floor number, he looked at his watch to see that it was 11:45am. More than enough time for him to do what he needed to do. As soon as the elevator started to rise, he pulled out a device and put it in his pant pocket. It was a curious thing he received from the technology office a day prior. It worked with thermal energy, and had to be charged prior to use. A few minutes of it leeching off of his body head was all that was needed, but it was one time use, so he had to time it perfectly.

He stepped out of the elevators to an almost empty floor, which he expected. The employees on this floor had their lunch break, which ran until 12:30pm. He mentally reviewed the floor plan; his target was the vault in the private office on the left side of the floor. There were plenty of cameras around, he knew, so he had to make it look as natural as possible.

He walked to the nearest cubicle on his left and sat down in the chair. He pulled out a flash drive and plugged it into the computer. The computer whirred for a few moments before a window opened on the screen and began to work.

To the outside eye, the program looked like a Geth Orton security program, with a rising percentage and a bar displaying how much of the work was done. In reality, it was a much more sinister program that looked for encrypted and password protected files and saved them.

Grillby relaxed into the chair as the program ran. He was told that the program took the maximum of five minutes to run. By his calculations, he had to go through at least eight more cubicles before he could sneak into the private office. He had read the names of every employee in his path before the mission's start, and had handpicked the cubicles he would work at in order to get as much sensitive information as possible.

He moved to the next cubicle as soon as the program signaled that it was done. He repeated the same actions, and was on the move as soon as the program finished its work. He did this a few more times until he was in front of the private office. As soon as he unplugged the flash drive, he stood up, stretched, put his hand into his pocket, gripped the device tightly, and activated it.

The device would send a private signal to his technology expert, who would distract the cameras on the floor. All Grillby had to do was wait for a few moments for the device to vibrate so that he could move to the office. He had very few precious minutes, but he knew how to make the most of his time.

The device vibrated, and Grillby strode to the office door and grabbed Lance's ID cards from his belt. He slid the card into the crack between the door and the doorjamb, tilted the card, bent it, and the door sprang free. He strode into the office and headed to the computer. He plugged in the flash drive, but the program didn't run. Rather, the computer asked for administrator password. He typed in the IT man's username and password, and the computer accepted it. The program began to run, and he turned his attention to the small vault underneath the desk. He punched in the vault code—7952—and opened it.

 _Jackpot_.

He grabbed all of the papers and external storage devices in the vault and neatly packed them away in his messenger bag. He knew he didn't need all of them, but that was for the techs to sort through. He closed the vault, took the flash drive, walked out and locked the door behind him. He went to the nearest cubicle and plugged in the flash drive just in time for the device in his pocket to vibrate one last time, signaling the immediate return of the surveillance. It didn't matter to him though. He was in the clear, and, as the employees started to file in, he moved three more times and then made his way to the elevator. He head towards the reception to announce his departure to Amy, as he had to be sure that he was seen leaving.

Amy looked up and smiled bashfully as she saw him. He waved to her and stopped in front the counter.

"Leaving already?" She asked, "That was fast."

"Yes, I must make my leave. Unfortunately, not everyone is as friendly as you are, and I had started to feel quite unwelcomed and unsafe."

"Oh! That's terrible!"

"It happens," he smiled, "I'll be sure to have the company send someone else to complete my work."

"Alright. Could I have your badge back, please? The printer's still broken, and I need a copy for my files."

"Of course, whatever you need," he tilted his head a little to the side and smiled with his eyes. She turned red and watched with the same enthralled gaze as before as he peeled the badge off of his shirt and handed it to her. She thanked him and bade him goodbye. He gave her a small wave and walked away.

He took all of three steps before she called out to him.

"W-wait, Mr. Amano!"

"Yes?" He turned around and walked back to her.

"I think you might need this!" She was redder than before as she handed him a piece of paper. Grillby looked down on it and saw it was a phone number. Her phone number.

She was watching him anxiously, so he looked up at her, held her gaze, and then brought the paper to his lips. He parted them slightly so that they would show a white outline, and then touched the paper to them in a mock kiss. He then put the paper into his pocket, gave her one last smile, and walked away. The last thing he heard of Amy was a loud thump as she fell back onto her chair.

He really, _really_ loved his job.

-/-/-/

He was being followed.

Grillby first noticed it about a block away from Leif and Flower, and quickly tried to figure out how long he had been followed. He hadn't noticed it before entering the building, so it must have started after he left. He sighed in annoyance and attempted to lose his pursuer in a crowd, but it didn't work. He tried to lose them in a corner store, but they were very adamant on following him.

He looked at his watch and realized that he would miss the dead drop if he didn't fix this problem soon. So he decided in the end that the fastest course of action would be to confront—and maybe kill—his pursuer. He went to the nearest convenience store and bought an energy bar and two lottery tickets. He asked for a pen from the cashier and wrote down the username and password of the IT employee that he had used and then proceeded to scratch both. One won him ten dollars, and the other was a bust.

He stuffed both tickets into his bag and walked out of the store, unwrapping the energy bar and taking a bite out of it as he walked slowly away. The feeling of being followed was on him instantly. He took a few more careless steps then suddenly turned around and scanned the crowd.

It was the IT guy.

Odd, since he never even caught the man's name.

Grillby sighed and walked towards the man, who looked shocked at first, then angry.

"What do you want?" he asked the human.

"You're not from Geth Orton!" The human shouted, pointing his finger threateningly at Grillby.

"I'm not?"

"No you're not! They don't hire monsters."

There were currently had 67 monster employees in Geth Orton Digital Security, and Grillby knew that for a fact. He pulled out his burner phone and dialed the front office of the company, then put it on loud speaker. It rang once, twice, then a female voice picked up.

"Good afternoon! Geth Orton Digital Security, how may I help you?"

"Hello Jane," Grillby greeted and pulled the tag from his belt to read it, "This is Lance Amano, ID number 2276-131H."

"One moment, please." They could both here Jane type away at her computer. The IT man leaned in to stare at the number that he had dialed, and then leaned back to glare at Grillby. There was a moment's quiet, then she said, "Hi, Lance. How can I help you today?"

"I just had one question, Jane. How many monsters work at the company?"

"We just hired the 68th monster this morning, actually! She introduced herself on her way in. She's super nice."

"I see. Thank you, Jane. Have a good day."

"You too, Lance!"

The call ended with a click. Grillby looked at the human as he put his phone away.

"Any other accusations?" He asked the human. The IT man gave Grillby a nasty glare and stomped away. Grillby watched him go before he headed to the dead drop, and was relieved to find that the feeling of being followed was gone.

-/-/-/-

The dead drop was in an abandoned construction site that was usually occupied by the homeless at night. During the day, however, it was completely deserted, save for a few drunks passed out in the corners.

The best thing about it was the barrels that were used to contain their fires. They were great for burning evidence.

Grillby walked into the construction site until he was sure he was out of sight. He took out the dead device and Amy's phone number from his pockets and put them in the messenger bag, then did the same with Lance's ID cards. He then pulled out his bartender outfit and sighed deeply. He hated changing on the field, but it was necessary most of the time. Going home to do so would attract too much attention, and he hated witnesses.

Witnesses meant he would a liability.

Becoming a liability meant an uncertain death.

Grillby quickly changed clothes, throwing the Geth Orton shirt and black pants into the barrel, and then setting them on fire. He then changed his flame back to its original color and stretched tiredly.

He walked towards the edge of the construction site and put the messenger bag in a barrel there. It wasn't an idea place for a dead drop, but he knew it would be picked up within the hour. As he walked out of the construction site, he dropped the disguise's shoes in front of a passed out human. They were in excellent shape, and they wouldn't be connected back to him anyway.

-/-/-/

It was two weeks later, and Lance never came back. His wife came in at one point and paid his tab, to which Grillby was grateful.

What made today important, however, was that Sans had come in and ordered cheese sticks.

Grillby put the plate down in front of Sans and looked at him expectantly. Sans pretended to lean in to grab the ketchup bottle and whispered, "The boss is pleased. Great work."

Grillby nodded and walked away to tend to his other customers. He came back once Sans was done with his plate, and Sans leaned in again.

"Next assignment's here. You up for it?"

Grillby gave a discreet nod.

"Great. Everything you need is at the usual spot in the backroom." Sans hopped off his stool and walked away. "Just put it on my tab, Grillby," he said as he left.

Grillby mentally calculated Sans' tab as he cleaned up after Sans. The skeleton's tab was way over due, but Grillby didn't mind too much.

Sans, after all, was his favorite "customer."


End file.
